I made a batch of cookies earlier this week. Yesterday I whipped up a batch of shortbread because it sounded delicious. Earlier this week I bought all the ingredients for and put together some homemade mosquito repellent. Twice this week I’ve harvested the seeds from some of the flowers in my garden to use next year and also to give to my mom. I’m back on the kick of planting a vegetable garden and putting in some herbs along the back patio. I publicly breastfed my baby in the middle of a party last night surrounded by a ton of people I didn’t know and this morning, I dried my daughter’s sheets by throwing them over the fence and letting them blow in the breeze. I don’t know what’s happening to me.
No, not in Tim Tebow. I was already a believer in Tebow…but I digress.
I’m starting to believe these fortune cookie fortunes are more than just coincidence. Now, I’m a smart person. I know these fortunes are mass-produced and randomly stuck into fortune cookies, shipped all over the world and there is no rhyme or reason to who gets what. But I dunno, I kind of like believing in a higher power that works through something as simple as a fortune cookie to remind people to stay on track; stay the course…to remind them of their goals and dreams. After my last post about my New Year’s fortune, Hubs finally opened his this weekend. Now, if you’ve been following along at all, you know that the Hubs and I have some big plans. That’s why his fortune kind of gave me goosebumps.
If you’re interested…here’s the long version of why this particular fortune is so cool.
I’m feeling somewhat melancholy today. Hubs’ travel schedule has been fairly light since about Thanksgiving. He’s traveled some, but not much. He’s also had quite a bit of time off work and we’ve spent a lot of time together as a family. He left today on the first trip of MANY over the next month and a half. I knew it was coming and I understand why he has to put in so much travel right now, but it’s still hard. It’s always hardest to have him leave when he’s been home for a while. It takes me some time to re-adjust to being alone. In addition, I’m feeling slightly anxious about adding a new baby. I’ve treated this pregnancy as an after thought much of the time. Partly out of fear, partly out of necessity since I have another child to care for. We’ve been working like crazy to get A moved into her new room. It’s coming together but still isn’t done and in the process I’ve completely destroyed the nursery. Just walking past the room makes me nervous because it’s in SUCH disarray. Not that Baby C will care what her room looks like, but I’d really like for it to be done before she gets here.
I’m starting to experience some sadness about A not being an only child anymore too. I don’t think that helps my feelings regarding the heavy travel schedule; it just adds to my desire to have my family home. Together, and close by. I keep trying to tell myself giving her a sibling is an awesome gift, but I’m not sure I can fathom life with more than just her. I’m not worried about loving another child, or having room in my heart for another child, I just find myself unable to grasp the concept of another child in this house. The logistics are mind-boggling. It’s been just me and A for so long, I know so much about her and I am able to devote so much of myself to her. I know that just won’t be possible once Baby C gets here and it makes me sad. I wish it didn’t, it feels like I’m doing Baby C a disservice and she’s not even here yet. Makes me want to really dig in and savor these last weeks with just A.
I find myself worrying about silly things. Getting upset about situations that haven’t even come to fruition. I’m feeling fearful about the safety of Hubs and A…given the events that play out in my head you’d think I watch too much Lifetime TV, but I don’t. Not at all actually. I know it’s the hormones, but it makes me feel like a crazy person. I’m doing better believing that Baby C will make a safe arrival, but I still have moments of sheer panic that send me
running walking quickly usually kind of limping (since my feet and legs constantly fall asleep) for a glass of water or frantically tapping my belly to get some movement out of her. As we start to make strides towards ACTUALLY getting our home ready for another baby I can’t help but wonder, what if? I put off doing pretty much anything until after Christmas. I just wasn’t confident enough to get anything started. I fully believe tragedy can strike again. I had such a hard time ordering my glider last week. The last time I placed an order for furniture, I had to send my mom to the store the next day to un-order said furniture. To top it all off, I have more contractions each day than I care to admit. I know they’re normal. I know they don’t “mean” anything. But it’s still nerve-wracking. I never had early contractions with A, so this is fairly new territory. I plan to mention it to my doc at my appointment on Friday. I’ll be 32 weeks. I’m aware that if Baby C were to show up now, her chances of survival are very good, but we’d obviously be dealing with a long stint in the NICU. I’d like to avoid it and I just keep telling myself, despite the daily contractions, she’s not coming until March.
On a lighter note, since it’s Tuesday, and I pretty much ALWAYS go to Target on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s, I had to laugh at my purchases today. 1 box of mac and cheese for A. 1 box of shells and cheese for me. 1 frozen cheese pizza for us to share. 1 box of individual deep dish cheese pizzas for me. 1 bag of sour cream and onion potato chips. And 1 box of maxi pads for, uh, various reasons. I was embarrassed as I checked out. I’m still slightly embarrassed, but only slightly.